THE BILLIONAIRE STILL WANTS HER!
Chapter 163: What happens now, is your cause...

Chapter 163: What happens now, is your cause...

Riley let out a sharp, ear-piercing scream, her hands instinctively flying to cover her ears as the gunshot echoed through the room.

Her heart pounded like a war drum, her breath caught in her throat, expecting to see blood splattered across Alex’s still form. But as her wide, terrified eyes darted toward him, she realized—nothing.

No blood. No wound. Just the sound of shattered porcelain filling the tense silence.

She turned slowly, almost afraid to believe what she had just witnessed. The bullet had missed. It had torn through a delicate vase instead, its broken shards scattered across the polished floor and desk like a cruel reminder of how close the shot had been.

Riley’s breath came in short, ragged gasps as she snapped her gaze to Tryson, her body frozen in shock. What the hell was going on inside his head?

"Tryson?" Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling with disbelief and something far more primal—fear.

Tryson’s cold gaze locked onto her, his expression unreadable. "You had me drugged... or was it Father?"

His tone was razor-sharp, slicing through the air like a knife. He wasn’t asking—he was demanding, and he wasn’t in the mood for excuses.

He didn’t need to hear a justification. He already knew enough. He knew that his actions—his static, his chaos—were shaking Riley to her core.

She feared for her life more than anything, even more than his father, who remained eerily composed in his seat, as if none of this concerned him.

Tryson could tell his father had figured it out—that the bullet had never been meant for him. No, Riley had been the real target. And he knew it too.

Fear gripped her, raw and unrelenting. That was exactly what Tryson needed. Because fear had a way of loosening tongues, of making people say things they otherwise wouldn’t.

Alex, however, sat still, his expression unreadable, aware that this game of power and intimidation was only beginning. He knew Riley wouldn’t be able to hold out for long. Eventually, she would break. And when she did—she would spill everything.

Arthur’s composure remained steady, the weight of the situation pressing down on the room like a storm cloud.

Yet, the fact that he had done what was necessary—what was required at that crucial moment—was the only thing keeping him grounded, his mind calm amidst the chaos.

Tryson’s eyes burned with suspicion, his jaw clenched tightly as he assessed the situation. The tension in the room was suffocating, thick enough to cut with a blade.

Then Riley spoke, her voice laced with nervous urgency. "Listen, Tryson. You were already drugged before that moment... all I had to do was my job." The words spilled from her lips before she could stop them, like a dam breaking under pressure.

Tryson stiffened, his expression darkening. A slow, cold frown settled onto his face, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides. "What task were you given?" His voice was dangerously low, like a warning before a storm.

Before Riley could utter another word, Alex’s voice cut through the charged air. "I think it’s best if Angel tells you instead," he said smoothly, his tone unreadable. "But if you truly want to know... perhaps it’s better that you see it for yourself."

His interruption was intentional, precise. One more careless word from Riley, and she could unravel everything—more than it already had been.

For a long time, Alex had observed her, had noticed a pattern in her behavior. Though she carried herself with confidence, there were moments—critical, life-altering moments—when fear clouded her judgment. And right now, she was treading on dangerous ground.

Without another word, Alex turned away, his movements calm and deliberate.

He reached for the drawer of his desk, the faint sound of it sliding open breaking the tense silence. From within, he retrieved a sleek tablet, the screen flickering to life as he prepared to reveal what Tryson needed to see.

The truth was coming. And with it, the storm that had been brewing in the shadows was about to break.

Tryson’s gaze darkened, his eyes narrowing into slits as they locked onto the screen Alex handed over and then he watched was being played for him.

His grip on the gun tightened, knuckles turning white as tension coiled through his body like a wound spring. Slowly, deliberately, he raised the weapon, his finger hovering over the trigger.

For a split second, the room seemed to freeze. The air was thick with unspoken threats, heavy with the weight of a decision that could change everything. He wanted to pull the trigger—God, he wanted to. The anger in his veins burned like wildfire, demanding release.

But logic clawed its way back through the haze of his fury. Shooting Alex now would be useless. It wouldn’t give him the answers he needed, wouldn’t unravel the twisted web of betrayal tightening around him.

With a sharp scoff, Tryson let out a bitter laugh—one filled with frustration rather than amusement. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths as he glared at Alex, the growl in his throat barely restrained.

Then, without warning, he lashed out.

His hand slammed down onto the desk with a force that rattled the air, sending vibrations through the wood. Shards of the shattered vase dug deep into his palm, piercing flesh, but the pain barely registered. It was nothing compared to the storm raging inside him.

Blood seeped between his fingers, trailing down onto the polished surface of the desk. But Tryson didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. Because in that moment, the agony in his hand was insignificant—mere background noise to the brutal realization that had just solidified in his mind.

He had been played. And now, someone was going to pay for it.

Tryson’s voice was a low growl, thick with years of resentment and bitterness.

"You know, for way too long, I put my trust in you. I thought you would love me like a father loves his son, but now..." His voice cracked, the raw emotion pouring through, his words dripping with pain. "Now, it’s clear. All this... everything that’s happening... I was chasing the wrong thing. I was after the wrong kind of care, the wrong kind of love."

Riley stood frozen, her breath catching in her throat as the weight of Tryson’s words hung heavy in the air. Her mind raced, trying to process the revelation.

Did she just hear that right?

Tryson had just called Alex father.

Her heart skipped a beat, her world tilting on its axis. She’d always believed Alex was Tryson’s uncle—had never once questioned it, never once doubted the stories they’d been told.

The realization hit her like a slap to the face.